Closed Spaces
by Shepard.Commander87
Summary: Molly hated tight spaces-Or did She? A Sherlolly prompt given to me by a wonderful friend and follower on Tumblr. Woo! Hope you all Enjoy!


**Closed Spaces**

This prompt was given to me by one of my wonderful friends, Mischief~With~Sandra!

-Sherlolly is the ship and word prompt is 'claustrophobic' :)

I know it's short, but I hope you all enjoy it! :D

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Molly hated the storage room where all the samples were kept. The room was just big enough to fit two people in and the walls were covered in shelves to hold all the various samples for the lab. It was cold and the lighting was bad, she dreaded going there any time she ever needed a sample.

Leave it to Sherlock to be the main cause of why Molly had to almost always go in for samples.

Sherlock always had various experiments that he had going on in the lab aside from the normal cases he would work on with the Yard. Whether that would be working with studying the decomposition of tissue on the human scalp, or calculating the acidity difference in the stomach after death didn't really matter to him.

It was bad enough that the detective kept her at the lab well past her normal hours, and it was bad enough that she was gullible enough to do so. The worst part was that she opted out of dinner with friends at a night club one Friday night to stay at work late and help Sherlock with his samples.

"Molly could you fetch me the saliva sample from the storage room?" Sherlock said to her absently while looking down at the microscope. Molly merely sighed as she headed towards the storage room walking a little louder than normal.

"Damn Sherlock and not getting his own damn samples…" Molly mumbled to herself as she walked into the storage room. Sherlock managed to put the sample all the way in the back, which caused Molly to groan louder after fumbling around the tiny room, she finally found his saliva sample. "Mercy! That man will be the death of me!" Molly said as she went to grab the door to leave, but realized it was locked. Her eyes widened in horror. She must've locked it by accident when closing the door. She honestly never remembered ever shutting the door when entering the storage room, maybe there was a reason why.

Panic began to fill her as she took in the state of the room. The lighting was dim and the room was cold, petri dishes lined the shelves of the tiny room in various places. She felt as if her throat was closing in, the walls seemed to be closer than they were a moment ago. Molly tried playing with the knob again hoping that the door would somehow shimmy open, but her mind told her the cold truth she just didn't want to face. She was locked in, and would be for hours if Sherlock was in his mind palace.

"Damn that man!" Molly shouted as she banged the door. She let a small cry escape her lips at the thought of being in here for hours. What would she do about food? She hadn't eaten all day? How could she sleep? There was barely any room. How could she relieve herself? Another cry escaped her lips at the thought of doing her business on the storage room floor.

"Sherlock!" Molly yelled as she banged forcefully against the door.

Sherlock's brow quirked in confusion. He lifted his head from the microscope trying to place where the sound came from, but he dismissed it almost as soon as it came.

"Sherlock! Dammit Sherlock!" he heard her cry.

"Molly!" Sherlock stood up quickly and headed towards the storage room. When Sherlock arrived all he could do was scoff at how clueless Molly could be at times.

"Sherlock, the door is locked! Let me out!" Molly whined. Sherlock smirked at the events before him, "I should leave you in there for your obvious lack of attention to detail Doctor Hooper!" Sherlock laughed out and opened the door.

"Oh goodness! Thank you!" Molly sighed in relief.

"Yes, yes, of course I know how—my god, how many samples are in here?" Sherlock looked around in awe of what was in front of him. He walked further in the small storage room and took in the surroundings.

"All the samples you have collected over time Sherl—no, no! Don't shut the!"

The door shut and clicked behind him.

Before he could even react, he sighed at his now apparent lack of attention to detail. He looked from the door to Molly whose face was now twisted into almost a snarl, which then changed into something of what he thought was—fear?

"Molly, why are you afraid?" Sherlock asked his pathologist pointedly.

"Wh—what? Afraid? I'm not afraid." Molly said unsure of herself and tried to make busy by looking around the room.

"Are you claustrophobic Molly?" Sherlock asked with his head slightly tilted to the side and his brow quirked.

Molly straightened up immediately and gulped at the question. Yes, yes she was claustrophobic. She had been ever since she got stuck in the elevator in secondary school when she broke her leg. She was stuck in there for over two and a half hours! She tried calling for help but the emergency phone wasn't working, load of help the damn thing did then. The lights went out and she could barely move. She remembered when she got out how frightened she had been, it took her _years_ to step foot on an elevator, but she never did it alone.

"What? Me? …No…" Molly dragged out the answer. Sherlock smirked at her and came closer only causing her to not only panic but blush from such close contact with Sherlock. He looked down at her face and a look of puzzlement graced his features.

"Hm… how interesting. Your face is red. Possibly from the close proximity of me I presume? You already have difficulty speaking to me on a daily basis and you normally maintain a five foot distance between us at all times unless circumstances don't allow—much like this one." Sherlock said to her as his voice became much deeper than his normal baritone. She didn't know it was possible. She audibly gulped at the attention, which only made Sherlock chuckle.

"You're not a very good liar you know that, right Molly?" Sherlock whispered to her as he was so close already. Molly looked into his eyes, those deep pools of blue green. She let out a breath which only managed to give her shivers.

Sherlock placed one hand right where her shoulder and neck met, "Your pulse is erratic," he breathed as he moved closely to her neck, "either from fear or..." he trailed his nose from her neck lightly up to her ear. "arousal." He said deeply which caused Molly to let out a sigh so close to a moan.

"Is that possible Molly?" Sherlock asked as he pressed the side of his face against hers breathing her scent in. His other hand went to her hip right at the pelvic bone and pulled her closer to tall form. "There's nothing wrong with being scared Molly…" he said to her as he pulled back looking into her eyes. She looked at him and his eyes were much darker and deeper than she had ever seen before. She knew she didn't have to be scared; she just wasn't sure what he was referring to when he said that- being scared of small spaces, or scared of Sherlock trailing his hands all over her.

"Let me help you." He added as he trailed lightly down Molly's neck and placed feather light kisses upon it. Molly gasped at the sensation. The last thing she had expected him to do was this. If anything, she expected the man to scoff and pout the entire time while in the room waiting for someone to come and get them out, but this—well this was _different._

She tried not making any sudden movements in fear that it may push him away, yet when he ran his hands up and down her ribcage underneath her lab coat, she pulled him close and kissed him fiercely on the lips. Needless to say, Sherlock was quite surprised yet growled in appreciation of her boldness. He spun her around swiftly and pinned her up against the metal door of the supply room. His mind was racing with all of the sensations she was causing him, then it happened.

She touched his hair.

She pulled just slightly at his raven curls and his body acted as if on instinct. He pressed her further against the door and grinded into Molly's small frame while letting go of her lips for breath only to suck lightly at the sweet skin of her neck.

He heard her moan his name which caused a possessive and smug reaction within his mind. Yes. He knew she was his, would always be his and no one else's. No matter how many men she dated or was with, he knew she felt nothing for them, because that was all saved for him. He smirked against her skin and nibbled lightly in between kisses.

He let his hands grace lightly at the soft skin of her torso as he trailed so agonizingly slow up her frame it was driving Molly mad. Her leg was hiked against his hip to get as close as clothed people snogging in a closet could possibly get. She let her hands fall from his hair in which she swore she heard a pout come from the detective's mouth only to be replaced by a moan when she dug her nails into his back and scratched lightly trying to pull him closer.

"She—Sherlock…" Molly breathed out.

"Yes dear?" He came up from where he was nibbling and fondling her appreciatively to see the look of almost shock on the woman's face. She pushed it aside for now.

"Work. I'm at work! I need to get back to the lab!" she said in a panic.

"Ah yes…" he kissed her lips gently. "I suppose you do. But a little break won't hurt, now will it?" He smirked at her mischievously and pulled her in for another deep kiss. She wrapped her hands around his neck and he loved the sensation. It sent electric waves all through him, her hand travelling all over him, he couldn't get enough.

He pulled away slightly and kissed Molly's jaw, cheek, and ear leaving a hot trail of kisses that she could feel upon her cold skin.

"I suppose you are right. We could always continue this later. That is… if you so wish?" he said into Molly's ear sucking and kissing it lightly waiting for her reply.

"Th—that would be nice… yes." She managed to moan out of her mouth which only made Sherlock smirk once more.

"Good. I look forward to it, Doctor Hooper." He said huskily as he pulled away from her warmth only to miss the contact immediately. He lightly moved Molly to the side and went to work on the lock, in less than a minute the lock was picked.

Molly and Sherlock came out of the room, Molly's face one of bafflement. "So, you picked the lock? Why did you wait?" She asked curiously.

"Are you scared of closed spaces any longer?" He looked down at her his eyes light and bright and playful. Molly only grew redder at his question.

"You're welcome," Sherlock began and pulled Molly close to him once more. "Dear." He whispered to her before kissing her one last time fully and passionately, a kiss he could remember and help him, and well her get through the day of wanting and waiting.

Molly loved small spaces. She looked forward to an elevator ride or going to the morgue storage room or any other place for that matter when Sherlock was involved. She saw them as a challenge; just how small of a space could they both get into? How close could they possibly become? Every though was what fuelled the curiosity even further.

No Molly was not afraid of small spaces.

She anticipated them.


End file.
